


Act II

by gay_possum_god



Series: Queer Oxford Time Travel [2]
Category: Oxford Time Travel Universe - Connie Willis, The Importance of Being Earnest - Wilde
Genre: Flirting, M/M, Spies & Secret Agents, The Importance of Being Ernest, WWII, i descided to do this, i'm not even entirely sure what it is, since they have code names from, why does mike have so may ailiases
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 15:17:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18741664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gay_possum_god/pseuds/gay_possum_god
Summary: Cess sat on Ernest’s desk, having pushed all of Ernest’s work to the corners to make room for himself. He was clearly waiting for Ernest, but pretending not to be; he was not very good at pretending.It was at moments like these when Ernest wondered who let Cess become a Fortitude South agent. Though Ernest did have to admit Cess looked charming when he was trying to hide something.“I have never met any real spy before,” Cess announced to himself once he was sure Ernest was in earshot. “I feel rather frightened. I am so afraid he will look just like everyone else.” At this, Cess pretended to notice Ernest for the first time. “He does!”





	Act II

**Author's Note:**

> Cess and Ernest are gay because I'm gay and I like them. (also Mike is the best character, but also one of the only one's without a canon love interest and that's a crime.

Cess sat on Ernest’s desk, having pushed all of Ernest’s work to the corners to make room for himself. He was clearly waiting for Ernest, but pretending not to be; he was not very good at pretending.

It was at moments like these when Ernest wondered who let Cess become a Fortitude South agent. Though Ernest did have to admit Cess looked charming when he was trying to hide something.

“I have never met any real spy before,” Cess announced to himself once he was sure Ernest was in earshot. “I feel rather frightened. I am so afraid he will look just like everyone else.” At this, Cess pretended to notice Ernest for the first time. “He does!”

If it were anyone else, Ernest would be scared they had realized there was something about him to be suspicious of, but it was just Cess, so he replied, “And you, Cess, have been rereading Lady Bracknell’s memo. I’m sure.”

“You are under some strange mistake. I have not been rereading it. In fact I have not read it once.”

Ernest laughed. Cess smiled at him when he did that.

“But I am indeed Cess, and you are indeed a wicked spy.”

“Oh, I am not wicked at all, Cess,” Ernest said, pushing Cess off his desk and beginning to organize the clutter Cess had caused while clearing room to sit. “You mustn’t think I am wicked.”

“If you are not,” Cess retorted, unwilling to give up his game so soon, “then you have certainly been deceiving us all in a very inexcusable manner. I hope you have not been leading a double life, pretending to be wicked and being really good all the time. That would be hypocrisy.”

Ernest smiled to himself thinking, “if only he knew.”

“Oh, I suppose I have been rather reckless. What with the bull and all.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Cess said, taking Ernest’s reply as an invitation to continue his game, and settling down on another part of the desk. Ernest sighed and abandoned his work of tidying his desk. It was never organized anyway. He instead focused on typing out the rough draft of his next article on the American troop movements.

“In fact, now you mention the subject, I have been very bad in my own small way.”

“I don’t think you should be proud of that,” Cess said, as straight-faced as someone being as hypocritical as he was could be, “though, I am sure it was quite pleasant.” Ernest snorted at this, because Cess would know.

“It is much pleasanter being here with you,” Ernest said, with only the slightest bit of sarcasm.

“I can’t understand how you are here at all. Don’t you have newspapers to write?” Cess asked, absentmindedly picking up one of the drafts of said paper and casually flipping through it.

“That is a great point,” Ernest said, staring right at Cess, who was still looking through the various items on Ernest’s desk and hindering any work he might have done.

“Anyways,” Cess said, throwing the newspaper draft he’d been flipping through back onto the desk in a different spot than he picked it up from, “Jack wants to speak to you about your emigrating.”

Ernest was honestly taking aback at this point.

“About my what?”

“Your emigrating. He has gone up to buy your outfit.”

Ernest could only imagine the hideous costume Jack would have chosen for him this time. “I certainly wouldn’t let Jack buy my outfit. Do you remember that knit suit?”

“Don’t you know there’s a war going on?” Cess said, quoting what Jack told them every time they complained about bad costumes or rations. “Besides, I don’t think you will require knit suits. Jack is sending you to Australia.”

“Australia!” Ernest exclaimed in shock. “I’d sooner die.”

What would he do in Australia? How would he help Polly and Eileen from Australia? And could Oxford find him there? If not, would he have to live the rest of his life there? What did the Fortitude South even want with Australia.

It wasn’t till Cess added, “Well, he said at dinner on Wednesday night, that spies would have to choose between this world, the next world and Australia,” that Ernest realized that it was another one of Cess’s jokes.

At that point, he was just about ready to wrap his hands around Cess’s neck and squeeze till Cess was crimson in the face.

Instead he replied, “Oh, well! The accounts I have received of Australia and the next world are not particularly encouraging. This world is good enough for me, Cess.”

“Yes,” Cess replied, and leaned down to whisper in Ernest’s ear till his voice tickled the hairs at the nape of Ernest’s neck, “but are you good enough for it?”

Even though Ernest knew that Cess was just goofing off to procrastinate on their next assignment, this still sent a chill down his spine.

“I am afraid that is why I want you reform me,” Ernest said, giving up on his work completely and turning to look Cess in the eyes.

“I’m afraid I’ve no time this afternoon,” Cess said gently, looking Ernest right back in the eyes. Ernest felt butterflies stir in his stomach.

“Well would you mind my getting some work done myself this afternoon?”

“It is rather quixotic of you. But I think you should try.” At this, Cess leaned back to his former position, leaving Ernest longing for the closeness they’d had just moments before.

“I will,” Ernest said, now playing along full heartedly with whatever off-track dilly-dallying Cess was playing at, in hopes of regaining that intimacy, “I feel better already.”

“You look worse,” Cess said, putting a hand to Ernest’s forehead as though feeling for a temperature.

“That is because I am hungry,” said Ernest, partially to distract himself from the gentle thrum of excitement that played under the skin where Cess touched him, and partially because it was true.

“How thoughtless of me,” Cess said. “I should have remembered that when one is trying to retire from a life of spying, one requires regular and wholesome meals.” Cess hopped off the desk and held out a hand to pull Ernest out of his chair. “Won’t you come in?”

“Thank you,” Ernest said, and, in an attempt to stop it from getting awkward when Cess grabbed his hand, added, “Might I have a buttonhole first?”

Cess clucked his tongue and replied, “Don’t you know there’s a war going on?” but reached to the vase on the window to grab a Marechal Niel.

“I’d rather have the pink rose,” Ernest told him, just to see if he would.

“Why?” Cess asked, pulling out the pink rose instead.

“Because,” Ernest said, praying his face wasn’t to red, “it reminds me of you.”

“I don’t think you should talk like that,” Cess warned, and for a second Ernest worried he had crossed a line, “Prism never says such things to me.” Cess gently tucked the pink rose into Ernest’s button hole as he said that.

“Then Prism is clearly not your officemate who knows what kind of flowers you keep on your desk so much because you love them that you begin to smell like them.”

“Prism also says that beauty is unnecessary in a time of war.”

“Well, they may be unnecessary, but any sensible man would be happy to have them.”

“Oh, I don’t think I would care to catch a sensible man,” Cess retorted with a wink. “I shouldn’t know what to talk to him about.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is split into two parts because the part in the play is. I'm not doing any other parts from the play, just these two scenes. It never specifies in the book which Ernest it is, and I know that Mike is more of a Jack, but... (Also, Cess is the real Algy)


End file.
